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Jeffrey

Jeffrey,

I have hoped and prayed that somehow, in some way, I would hear from you. If I’m honest, what I longed for was to hear you say you love me—that I should come to Boise, and that we could find our way back to each other over time. I would have come, if that had been said. But that is what it would take for me to move there now.

Before, when I was there, it wasn’t about being close to you. But if I came now, knowing you’re there and feeling how deeply I still miss you after all this time, I would only be waiting for you. And I know that.

I miss Kidd, and the cats, and Squish. Lily does too. But like I’ve said, I haven’t been able to get on my feet. I’ve become a recluse, barely leaving the house. I’m getting ready to leave Pocatello permanently. It’s going to be hard—I have to leave everything behind. I can take Lily with me, I hope.

I don’t know how you would ever reach me after I’m gone. Mom and Dad will only have an email, and I doubt they would give it to you. No one else from here—from my past—will know how to find me.

I don’t know what the future holds. I only know it feels less beautiful, less full of hope and promise, without you in it.

The truth is, I’ve stayed this long hoping I would hear from you. Wanting to believe you weren’t gone from my life forever. Wanting to believe that what we vowed was more than paper—that it was sacred. But I will respect your silence. I will take it as your answer about whether we are meant to know each other in the future.

I miss you. I remember far more good than bad. The bad was heavy, yes—but when I look back, there was so much more joy, so much more happiness between us. No one feels like you. No one smells like you. No one makes me feel safe, or seen, or grateful the way you do.

I hope the gods forgive us—for not standing in each other’s corner, for not holding each other up the way we needed to.

I only ever wanted to make you proud. I was never chasing anything for myself. And without you to make proud, I’ve lost my fire. The company, the vision—everything—it was for you. For us.

My life doesn’t know what to do with itself now that you’re gone. You were the center of what I was building, what I believed in. I was content to give everything—my breath, my strength, my endurance—if it meant building a life for you, for our family.

Without you, I don’t know who I’m striving for anymore. I don’t know how to bring that sense of wonder back. You gave me wonder. You gave me joy. You gave me love, and hope. Even in my darkest moments, you pulled me out. Even when we clashed, when things got heated, I never stopped loving you. Not once.

I was always afraid of losing you—because you were always slipping away, running ahead. And now that my greatest fear has come true, I understand something strange: when you lose the one thing you feared losing most, everything else fades with it.

You were the completion—the pinnacle of everything I sought in life. Loving you, serving you, building something together—that was my purpose. That was enough for me.

No matter what, please remember this: I love you. I love you more than anything I have ever loved. I miss you, and I will always miss you.

I truly hoped you would reach out. That you would tell me I still had a home in your heart.

But I can’t wait any longer. I don’t have the means to stay here. I don’t have a place to live much longer. It’s time for me to go. And when I go, I’m closing the door behind me—on everything. Family, friends… and I guess, you.

I still can’t imagine a life without you. Without you, it doesn’t feel like a life worth living. But maybe the gods will grant me something—just enough to keep going.

I love you, Jeffrey. I still bear your name.

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